


Five Time Lisa Riled Victoria Up (and One Time It Worked)

by TopHat



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F, LOL you thought there'd be sex, Read the title you buffoon, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHat/pseuds/TopHat
Summary: Lisa is not as smart as she thinks she is.
Relationships: Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl/Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale
Comments: 9
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

Lisa uncrossed and recrossed her legs for the millionth time, propped up her head up on an armrest with one hand, and sighed. “I’m bored.”

“What a travesty.” Victoria turned the page of her book, comfortably still. Today she’d dressed in casual wear, a v-neck with Brockton U’s logo on the front and some neutral grey sweatpants. Her blonde hair had been pulled back into an untidy bun, and Lisa could make out a few red spots on the side of her face just waiting to become pimples. Study gear, for when Victoria needed to buckle down and go hard on school stuff.

And she still made it look better than Lisa’s plain purple crop top and yoga pants.

So unfair.

Lisa groaned and twisted in the armchair, rotating until her legs dangled over one armrest and her head hung over the other. “Bored. Bored bored bored bored bored. Bored.”

After a moment, she turned to look at Victoria. “You should help me be not-bored.”

Victoria turned another page. “No.”

And now it was a game. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“No.” Lisa didn’t think it was a ‘fuck off’ no though. Part of that was her well-developed Vicky-sense, an understanding of how a minute variation in tone could invert the meaning of a sentence, and part of it was her power.

_Also bored, looking for an excuse not to read, still reading because she feels it's necessary, feels it's necessary because she doesn’t want to stop working, doesn’t want to stop working because—_

Lisa stopped the train of thought. While she didn’t have a problem with occasionally skipping the small talk to get into the really juicy stuff, she also tried to avoid hacking her way through things every time an ambiguous situation came up.

First, because her power wasn’t actually perfect, and the tangents it went down tended to the most dramatic possibilities. After busting down a bedroom door searching for drugs and finding a pair of skinheads sixty-nineing instead, she’d reluctantly cut back on her power use.

The second reason was because she’d seen what happened to parahumans who never stopped using their powers. If Taylor had taught her anything in their brief relationship, it’d been that work/life balance was important, and it was better to err on the side of life rather than work.

“Something on your mind?” When Lisa looked up, Victoria was looking at her. Not worried, but a curiosity that could become worry if left untreated.

Lisa smiled and shook her head. “Only the potential locations of large groups of Nazi henchmen. Now, do you want to—”

“No.” There went the not-quite-concern, replaced by exasperation as Victoria turned back to her book and huffed. “Seriously. I have a job. Once which requires a good amount of up-to-date knowledge and research. This” —she tapped the cover of her book with one hand— “is as much a part of my job as punching Nazis.”

“But it’s less fun that punching Nazis, and I could get you the locations of some Nazis to punch,” Lisa countered, rotating up to a sitting position.

Victoria sighed. “Lisa, is it so much to ask for you to enjoy your mandatory paid vacation?”

Enjoying a mandatory anything was an oxymoron. “What if I want to enjoy my mandatory paid vacation by telling you where the Empire’s most stacked storehouse is?” she countered, steepling her fingers.

“What if we act on things we shouldn’t know a few too many times and the Nazis wise up?” Victoria had stopped flipping pages, and the corners of her mouth were turned down in frustration.

In other words, Lisa was making headway.

“You’re giving them too much credit. Remember, your average member of the Empire believes some combination of ‘the earth is flat’, ‘the moon landing was faked’, and ‘kissing makes you pregnant’. Asking them to figure out anything is too tall an order.” Lisa recrossed her legs, and when she caught Victoria’s wandering eyes a different sort of thought occurred to her. “And besides, anything going to be better than reading that packet of lies.”

Victoria snapped the book shut. “Come again?”

“It’s all bullshit,” Lisa started, letting her power loose. Not at Victoria, but at the book. “First, because four of those authors have McDegrees they picked up using Daddy’s money got them a spot at top college where they didn’t have to try because the college didn’t want to fail the idiots. Maybe three of the people who contributed know what they’re doing, and of those three one of them has experience talking to a parahuman.”

“Lisa, you’re relying on your power. Quit being an idiot.” The doubt was there though, and Victoria’s hands twitched towards the book.

_Wants to check the bibliography, wants to find paper names, wants to find author names, wants to cite their history, wants to connect the findings to personal experience, wants to use personal experience to prove you wrong._

Lisa’s lips turned up. She was winning. “Or are you the idiot? Did you just waste prime Nazi-punching hours reading a bunch of drivel? Did Victoria Dallon, she of many lawsuits, fail to think something through? Is Victoria ‘Ditzy’ Dallon, the walking blonde stereotype, wrong?”

“Lisa,” Victoria said, her voice filled with warning, but if Lisa was susceptible to warnings she wouldn’t have moved in with Victoria in the first place.

“Stop the presses, the collateral damage barbie is beginning to look before she leaps! The golden girl, miss white and uptight, Elle Woods by night, now wondering whether violence is actually the answer! Our very own Glory Hole—”

Victoria flared her aura.

The flush of heat that hit Lisa was entirely artificial. While Lisa had never willingly set foot within five blocks of a combat zone, she'd ended up in enough cape fights with Victoria to know what her aura felt like. At first terrifying, and now that she’d started to like the girl it’d become awe-inducing. Partially physiological, partially the abstract stuff tied up in the human gestalt, and partially power fuckery that was never going to make any sense. Over time Lisa had learned how to handle it, how to avoid losing her train of thought, how to marshal her defenses against master effects both hostile and benign. 

With that said, why resist when you could give in?

After a moment of silence, Victoria started whispering.

"I know what you're doing," she said. The words were careful. Measured. Calm. The very essence of passivity.

Lisa bared her teeth, pausing to swallow as she leaned back a little in her chair and shivered. "Oh?"

"I know you're trying to rile me up. To go for my strengths and undercut me." It was the eyes which betrayed the truth. Hard, blue irises, sharp as a knife and twice as good at getting to the point. "You want me mad, but not so mad I don't play your games. You want me furious, but not to the point that I storm out. You're trying to ride a fine line, and you're doing that by deliberately avoiding the knock-out punches."

”Interesting theory, but totally wrong,” Lisa lied, rubbing her thighs together. “Like usual. Now, why don’t we go back to—“

Another blast of awe. Victoria stood up, tossed the book aside, and stomped across the room, looming over Lisa.

“Did you know that thinkers, when they weren’t using their powers, scored the lowest on basic knowledge tests? That they underperformed compared to civilian controls groups on logic puzzles? That they almost universally suffered from extraordinarily deficits of insight?” Victoria said, putting one hand on Lisa’s shoulder and leaning down. Her breath smelled like ginger, and the contrast between the scent and the rage was putting Lisa off-balance.

“Can’t make assumptions about individuals based on stats, you know that, you’re just going for scare tactics.” Lisa managed, the flush and the adoration and the awkward glance down Victoria’s shirt all melding into a tangle of emotions that still felt fluttery and light, flowing from behind her breastbone and spreading to every tip of her body. “You’re trying to scare me, do to me what I tried to do to you, trying to get just as excited as you are—“

Another hit of the aura, and this time a giggle escaped Lisa. She’d never admit it, but Lisa _liked_ it when Victoria flared her aura. It meant that she’d landed a hit, that Victoria had lost her cool, that on some level Lisa had won. It was validating, proof that Lisa knew what she was on about, that at the end of the day she had something like control with none of the responsibilities.

That affirmation hit so many buttons so hard that the play was almost superfluous. Almost.

Victoria leaned down, and Lisa tilted her head back up to meet her. The taste of tea mingled with neutral lip-gloss, a brand made to resist and repair chapping which had started out disgustingly bland but had eventually come to mean love. Fingers tucked away loose strands of her hair, after which the gentle, barely-there nails traced around the shell of Lisa’s ear, drawing a mewl from Lisa.

When Victoria pulled back fractionally, Lisa whined, then froze when Victoria’s hand settled on her shoulder, firm and solid.

“I’m not playing along,” Victoria said. She floated back to standing, a smirk firmly in place. “Instead, I think I’ll head back to my room and add your thoughts on parahumans to the review forums.”

What.

Victoria tapped her chin in mock-contemplation, smirk growing into a full grin. “It might take a while though. Maybe the entire night. I don’t think I’ll be able to do more than shower, brush my teeth, and change when I get back to bed. A shame, really. I was looking forward to some fun.”

“I can help you,” Lisa said, standing up on still-shaky knees.

Victoria shook her head, backing up to the living room door. “No, no, no, you get your rest. I know your headaches are a bitch a lot of the time, and you need your rest.” She snorted. “Also, you know you’re not allowed on the message boards anymore. You can only make so many grad students turn to the bottle before the academic community decides your contributions aren’t worth it.”

_Abort, abort, abort._ “I’ll be good, I promise! You can check all my drafts, go through things with a fine-toothed comb, I type fast and there’s no guarantee that you remembered everything I said, you need—“

“Save your strength, Lis,” Victoria said, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway. Lisa ground her teeth at the too-short, too-cute, too-asinine nickname that Victoria knew she hated. “You just enjoy your tea, let me wrap up work, and we can go to bed like an old married couple.”

“Besides,” Victoria added, winking through the crack in the door. “Thinker testimony isn’t given much weight. Too many idiots trying to sound smart with nothing at all going on underneath the surface.”

In the silence that followed the quiet _click_ of the door closing, the only emotion left in Lisa’s heart was anger.


	2. Chapter 2

“I hate it when you lie to me,” Victoria growled, dragging Lisa towards the bedroom.

“Okay, what the fuck is this about,” Lisa asked, scrabbling futility at the hand holding her up by the shirt, legs kicking, trying to gain traction on the ground. Victoria was doing the thing where she was floating _just high enough_ to keep Lisa off her feet, but _just low enough_ that if she stretched to the edges of what her yoga routine pushed her to she could kinda-sorta tip-toe along with her. “The ice cream was gone when I got here.”

“First I went to Aisha, because this seems like the sort of thing she’d do,” Victoria continued, staring right into Lisa's eyes as her free hand pushed open the bedroom door, hard enough that Lisa heard the handle _bang_ against the wall. “She said if she’d known that I had Jerry Garcia ice cream she’d have eaten it weeks ago. After that she told me it was probably you.”

“Aisha—”

It was easy to forget your girlfriend had super strength when she was out of costume. Right up until she threw you through five feet of open air and onto the bed.

“Aisha told me you’d try to blame her anyway,” Victoria said, unzipping her jacket in one sharp motion and throwing it across the room. It hit the chair in front of the more organized of the two vanities, hard enough to lift it onto its two front legs, and the shirt which followed finished the job, sending it to the floor. “She told me that you’d lie like a rug if it meant not taking the fall for something, and that she’d seek out the easiest target.”

 _Fuck fuck fuck, plan B_ , Lisa thought, even as she felt her legs rubbing together. God, why was it so hot when Victoria played rough? “Of course she’d say that, but it still doesn’t mean that I—

Her pants nearly split as she tugged down the zipper and let them fall, leaving Victoria clad in a sports bra, athletic panties, and a glower fit to shatter glass. “She also said that she’d known it’d been there for weeks, and the reason she didn’t snipe it was so she could record you grabbing the pint while I was gone.”

For a long second they just stared at one another, Victoria as regal as a queen, Lisa star-struck as a groupie.

_Stealing that carton was the best fucking decision I ever made._

Then she opened her mouth again.

“Well maybe I was doing you a favor.”

Those eight words hung in the air like eight different swords of Damocles, and the shock on Victoria's face made all eight worth it. Lisa swallowed, doing her best to look demure and contrite, smiling naively, gently opening legs, and bracing for impact.

This time it was a blast of aura, palpable as a thunderclap, a shot of heat right to Lisa's core. A tiny delay, just long enough to sharpen the anticipation into something _almost_ unbearable, and then Victoria was on top of her, pushing her back and down. Lisa felt the air leave her once, then stay gone when Victoria’ forearm pressed down on her neck. Not hard, not a proper stranglehold, but enough to make her _aware_. The other hand had gone to her shirt and started working at its buttons, a furious one-handed operation which still astounded Lisa to this day, and soon enough Lisa could feel bare skin on her stomach, each touch bringing goosebumps and nervous energy.

 _Fuck, I missed this_ , Lisa thought, breaking from the kiss, sucking down the hated-yet-necessary lungful of air, and returning to respiring pure Victoria.

When the hand dropped to her belt Lisa bucked, lifting into Victoria and sliding the denim over her hips, taking cotton with it, kicking desperately as she tried to help Victoria get them off faster. They got caught midway down her thighs when Victoria cupped her sex and pulled back, baring her teeth.

“This is what you fucking want isn’t it?” she growled, one finger dipping, tracing, and Lisa clamped her legs around Victoria’s hand while nodding eagerly. “For me to throw you around? To get shut the fuck up in exactly the way you want to get shut the fuck up,

Lisa kept nodding, kept arching into Victoria, searching for the first step past the foreplay. _Fuck, just a little deeper, then I can start palming her breast, moaning into her lips, feel something curl inside me, then bite into her shoulder as—_

Victoria pulled back further and the hand stopped. “This is what’s called operant conditioning, Lisa.”

It took a bit for the haze of lust to clear up, by which point Victoria had already floated over to the ‘private time’ cabinet and retrieved a tube of lube, a packet of condoms, and Lisa’s favorite pink dildo.

“See, there’s a zero percent chance you didn’t plan this,” Victoria began, pulling a plastic protector off the roll and breaking the seal, slipping it over the knobby pink phallus in her hand and rolling it all the way down in one smooth motion. “You wanted me to lose my shit, fuck you silly, and forget all about the ice cream in the post-coital haze. You’d buy me a pint of white raspberry truffle, bring up old wrongs, and because it seems like it was spontaneous I’d forgive you.”

She jabbed the sex toy at Lisa, eyes narrowed. “Not today.”

Lisa lay on the bed, flushed and horny, with her pants a quarter of the way down her legs, shirt unbuttoned, and bra pushed up, and asked, “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes I am.” Victoria walked to the overturned chair by the vanity and bent over, treating Lisa to a front-row seat of the results of clean living, a good diet, and plenty of squats. “I’m not doing it. I’m not giving you the satisfaction of getting a fuck out of pissing me off.”

She stood up, and in her free hand was her phone. “Instead, I’m going to go masturbate in the bathtub, and if you want to listen that’s on you.”

“Wait!” Lisa tried getting up, but the fabric around her thighs kept her legs from functioning for the few key seconds it took Victoria to float towards the in-suite bathroom. “We can talk this out!” By the time she’d gotten her pants back up the door had already _clicked_ shut, and when she tried the handle she heard the distinctly-coded _buzz_ which meant the lavatory was in-use. She slapped the door repeatedly, trying not to lose the mood, and shouted, “Victoria I’m sorry it won’t happen again, just...”

_Has earbuds in. Stored them here for just such an occasion. Currently playing the video of the last time you, her, and Ashley got together. Considering asking for it again. Focusing on the memory of the insert, how it felt inside of her while riding you, whether the awkwardness of kissing Ashley and imagining it was you was worth bringing up, how she wants to try more actual bondage, how you’d look with ribbons tight against your skin, whether she should make you fuck her or if it would just be better to use you like a doll—_

“Damnit!” Lisa punched the door, then swore under her breath when the flash of pain cut off her power. After two heartbeats of fuming, she stomped back to the toy drawer, picked an inferior toy, then swore again when she remembered where the lube was and put it back, slamming the drawer shut and sitting down in a huff on the edge of the bed.

She briefly entertained the idea of trying to get off anyway, then growled impotently and pulled a pillow over her face.

“Why does she always win?” Lisa mumbled into the fabric, her power seeping past paper-thin mental blocks and continuing to provide a running commentary on precisely what was going on in the next room. Maybe hyperintution wasn’t actually telepathy, but it damn sure felt like it sometimes.

_Highly aroused by the thought of outwitting you. Keeps a mental tally of recent spats. Thinks she’s in the lead. Is actually in the lead._

“Shut up, you.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ clickclickclickclickclick _

Working with the white hats wasn’t as much fun as Lisa had hoped it would be. Sure, she got more or less total immunity to the law when going after the ‘bad guys.’ Sure, she had the best benefits that couldn’t be bought, like parahuman-level health plans and the ability to go to sleep at night without wondering how many lives had been destroyed by her actions, a peace-of-mind that she’d previously only experienced before Rex’s passing. Sure, she had a girlfriend who would pull the painkillers out of her hand before she made herself sick and would hold her as migraines tore at her mind until all she knew was pain...

There actually wasn’t anything after that. Vicky was just the single most understanding partner she’d ever had, and maybe that was why she was the second person Lisa had ever fallen in love with.

_ clickclickclickclickclick _

What she hoped she’d never get used to was the paperwork. Endless, eternal, numbered and named in no sensical way, requiring the reduction of an entire person’s information to a short set of numbers and letters, describing actions and movements in the most patently absurd and useless way that it would only ever make sense to someone who hadn’t stepped foot into a combat zone of any type in living memory. Forms for the Wardens, forms for the civilian government, forms for private companies affected by the capefight, forms for private  _ citizens _ affected by the conflict, and now all of them had to be filled out and filed within one week of the incident (with a one day grace period added per recipient over ten, with the caveat that at least one envelope with tracking be sent out by seventeen-hundred the previous evening).

In short, fuck every part of making Joe and Jill citizen feel even the slightest amount of control in a cold and uncaring world populated by demigods, Lisa just wanted to be unaccountable.

_ clickclickclickclickclick _

There were, however, ways to make the ‘office days’ more interesting.

“Too hot in here,” Lisa muttered, pulling off her scarf to reveal last-nights hickeys, then undoing her shirt one more button than necessary.

Though the  _ clickclickclick _ ’ing didn’t so much as alter pace, Lisa knew she’d gotten some attention.

_ Wondering if you’re distracted. Knows you’re not. Knows this is intentional. Knows you’re bored. Knows you want to distract her. _

Well, there went the pretense.

Lisa pushed back from her desk, putting just enough angle on it to slowly spin around. “Ugh. Days like this make me wonder why anyone would be a hero. Nine parts office work to one part hear-pounding, adrenaline-fueled action, but that one part only happens once in a blue moon.”

She tilted back in her seat, letting it fall all the way down,  _ knowing _ that any red-blooded woman’s eyes would lock straight onto the lacy purple bra under her black work shirt, and looked up innocently in Victoria’s eyes. “Being a hero sucks. Change my view.”

_ She really, really wants to change your mind. _

Victoria was a perfect model for office chique. Tall, on the slimer side, and with shoulders that said she could out-bench most roided-out frat boys with enough left over to break their fingers. Long, blonde hair wound up into a loose bun, with just enough strands hanging down to add a hint of frantic energy, dipping down into a double-breasted suit coat over a frilled blouse and pencil skirt. She was wearing nylons today, kitten heels long since discarded for comfort in the office, with just a pinky nail’s worth of rose pattern running up the sides. The woman was a CEO/Secretary fantasy distilled into an Alexandria package, with the mind to match.

_ clickclickclickclickclickSNAP _

Lisa grinned as Victoria grimaced, pushing the laptop away. “This is why I didn’t want you in the office.”

“Do I distract you?” Lisa asked, remaining limp in the chair as Victoria stood up, resisting the urge to assume a more ready position as she shucked off her coat. It would give Lisa an excuse to wriggle, and a little force always made the holds all the sweeter for their tightness. “I could leave.”

“If you left I’d have to do your work for you.” Now Victoria was above her. “Try again.”

That hadn’t been in her mind, but in hindsight an excellent side-effect of a little office romp. “I could wear a paper bag over my head.”

Victoria knelt down and began fingering one of the bottom buttons on Lisa’s shirt. “Would you wear a potato bag to go with it? A thick one? You know it’s not just the looks that are getting to me.”

_ Is enjoying the repartee. Is getting excited. Not just for you. _

Now that was a concern.

“Are you implying you only want me for my body?” Lisa asked, smirking back up, daring Victoria to kiss her as she pursued that thought further.  _ Excitement is anticipation. Anticipation soon. Another woman. _

Another woman?  _ What!? _

“Are you implying that you’d wear literal sackcloth at any time?” Victoria whispered, leaning closer. “I thought you had more shame than that.”

“Are you cheating on me?” Lisa snapped, sitting up fast enough that she only just avoided smashing her forehead into Victoria’s nose, hands flying to her shirt as she began putting herself in order.

_ It was an accident that you missed her jaw. _

_ Shut up _ , she thought back,

“What?” Victoria asked, staring at Lisa with a combination of confusion and indignation. “How the hell did you get that idea?”

“She’s younger than I am, what the fuck?” The facts from her power began spilling from Lisa’s lips, bitter as battery acid and more nauseating than swallowing rotten milk. “Parahuman, someone you met in the past few years, like a daughter to you, more than that, familial and hierarchical, but you don’t think it’s  _ fucking weird _ . You’ve basically adopted her, thinker-ish area, massive attachment issues,  _ Jesus Vick since when did you keep _ —”

The door opened.

Kenzie looked at Lisa, then at Victoria. “Uhm, I’ll come back later.”

The door closed with all the finality of a guillotine.

If the windows weren’t rated to tank rifle shots, Lisa would’ve run for one and hoped for the best.

“You used your power,” Victoria said. A fact, not a question. Victoria had on her Game Face, the one she wore whenever she was falling back on whatever passed for instinct in her carefully-abused brain that she called ‘ingrained heroics.’ “It led you off on a red herring that scared you, so you trusted it instead of me.”

_ Habits of a lifetime are a bitch to break _ . “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

_ Oh, so now I’m getting the robot treatment. Cool, sorry to bother you, Miss PR Woman Ma’am, I’ll be on my way _ . “Vick, it’s not—”

“If it wasn’t like that, it sure felt like it was.”

Lisa shut up.

She ‘knew’ she could figure out what Vicky was feeling. She knew she could figure out the precise dimensions of the hurt she’d caused, and then find a way to fix this massive fuck-up. She knew that she ‘knew’ these things in the same way she’d ‘known’ that Vicky was seeing another woman, the same way she’d ‘known’ that Missy’s new boyfriends were plumbing her for information, the same way she’d ‘known’ Taylor would be alright right before she’d turned herself in.

It’d taken a decade, but Lisa liked to think she’d finally begun to learn what cutting one’s losses felt like.

“I’ll finish up here,” Victoria said, going back to her desk. “I think I’ll stay with Ash for the night. Not for sex, just someone to talk to.

“Then, tomorrow, we should talk about this.”

Lisa nodded, her jaw bunched tighter than a noose, and left the building.

She kept it together until she’d changed back into Tattletale, dispatched everyone in the building to do something somewhere else for an hour at least, and locked herself inside her room with a bottle of Tylenol and a fleece blanket.

Then the tears came.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've decided to continue the Brattletale AU. These five snips will hopefully give me the space to learn how to write porn halfway competently, but no promises.


End file.
